Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Starving for savagery

I feel fishhooks clawing at my pussy.
I feel flames leaving scars on my brain.
My submission is hoarse from screaming,
begging the beast to feed upon my flesh.
The scent of sex surrounds me.
Any minute, my door will yield
and a press of adolescent boys
will burst into the room, drawn like
toms to mount a cat in heat.
I am in heat.
A hormone storm for sure, seeded by
absence and internet silence, abetted
by the fiend’s own trap. A few lines,
a small vision, no more.
A sugar cube laced with acid of words,
sending my submissive mind on
such a trip that by today
the wild volcano of my lust was
spewing spurts of poems like
a man
to cum himself to death.
A dangerous game.
One doesn’t flirt lightly
with carnivorous beasts.
I offered him my throat,
sprinkling the path to my
blood-sheeted bed
with metaphors that guarantee
to waken and incite.
Works every time.
Says so on the package.
And so I try to wait,
and will my hands to
leave to its distress my
screaming, greedy cunt.
He'll be here soon enough.
Tomorrow or the next day
I will pay for tossing poems
at the maw of such a sadist
when he flogs my tender pallor,
when he twists my wounded nipples,
when he scratches his initial
somewhere new upon my body,
when he finds new ways to torture
till I prove how much I love him
as I let him tear me open
and I keep back from him nothing.
I am the beast's.
I yearn to be torn to shreds.


Anonymous said...

I hope you get what you crave. And then tell us the gory details.


Paul said...

OG, dear girl, this is savage magic, I love it!!!
I hope that you will have the necessary energy to reveal how your "screaming, greedy cunt" was satiated.
In graphic, poetic and beautiful words.
I doubt that you can do any other.
Love and warm hugs,

oatmeal girl said...

Thank you, James. I think it will be tomorrow. And then I will share what seems appropriate. We guard some treasures for ourselves.

As for what I crave... a proper submissive doesn't focus on her cravings. A proper submissive knows that it is all for him alone. But you know what? I'm a realist. And even if much of my pleasure and fulfillment comes from serving his needs, submitting to his needs, suffering for his needs, still... I will not deny that it is, indeed, pleasure. I will not deny that my cunt has been screaming at the thought of standing before him, naked and exposed, vulnerable to his evil appetite. I am crazed with my desire to be touched, to be kissed, to be flogged, to be smashed against the wall as he forces my poetry out of my lungs with the force of his weight pressed against my breast.

I admit to my lusts.

And oh Paul, things feel more normal now that your comments are back. And yes, as I told James, I will share, in my own metaphorical way, as I sit gingerly in my chair and try not to brush my arm against my tortured nipples.

I will try to inform and amuse and arouse.

Nancy said...

How did you know?
I was in the same*insane* crazy *needy*lust filled place on Tuesday. I begged and crawled.. and wanted, unashamed and wanton.
Somehow He KNEW.
He found a way to give me all and more .. and today i am still stunned and speechless.
Thank you for putting it so wonderfully into words.

oatmeal girl said...

Nancy - "somehow he knew" you say. The sign of a good dom/Master/owner - however you characterize him. To really do his job. he has to be clued into you, read you carefully, be able to take advantage of your vulnerability and manipulate you perfectly while he drags out of you everything he wants. Giving you what YOU need is just another form of manipulation. (Thanks so much for coming out behind your tree!)